


A Curious Itch

by Amymel86



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jon is supportive - of course, Past Abuse, Pregnancy, Pregnancy cravings - I don't mean food, Ramsey's baby, Sexual Content, attempts at abortion, not for everyone, smut ensues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 17:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8111086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: THIS FIC WILL NOT BE UPDATEDDue to the fact that my other pregnancy fic 'cravings' has kind of gone where I was taking this one, I will not be returning to this fic.Please read the description - this fic isn't going to be for everyone!...Jon is King in the North. Sansa leaves Ramsey's clutches with his unwanted babe quickening in her womb. Jon is supportive (obviously). But as her pregnancy progresses, the side effects start to trouble her - such as her sudden craving to satisfy a 'curious itch'. YES OF COURSE THIS IS GOING TO GET SMUTTY!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Currently distracting myself from the fact that I've reached a halt in my other fic by busying myself with more stories! 
> 
> This first chapter is just a 'set up' chapter and I'm sorry it's so short but trust me there will be more and it will get smutty ;)
> 
> Added note - I appreciate that this fic isn't for everyone what with it featuring Ramsey's baby and all but I do really love that a lot of you have given it a go despite your reservations. I also want to put it out there that I in no way claim to know how a rape victim would feel - especially where it resulted in a child. I only know that the Sansa in this story is STRONG despite her tears and with the support she gets from Jon - they make it work.

It wasn't working this time. It had always worked before - the moon tea.

Thrice now Sansa had suspected that the reason for her late moon blood had been the seed of evil taking hold in her belly. But those three times had been thwarted by copious amounts of moon tea that she'd stolen from Maester Wolken's stores (Sansa was almost sure he'd known but nothing came of it - she was thankful). She followed the same pattern each time - make the tea strong by letting it brew overnight, drink a cup with each meal and then end the day with an almost scolding hot bath. The amount of blood that appeared overnight had shocked her the first time, but not as much as the pain - but again, it was nothing compared to the pain inflicted on her by Ramsey - it was just another means for him to together her, she mused.

This time though, the evil seed seemed to have stuck and clung to her womb like a parasite. Sansa tried her practiced ritual four times and it served her no better than to just make her empty the contents of her stomach. She turned to prayer - although deep down she'd long resigned herself that it served no purpose - her prayers were never answered and Jon had cemented the thought into fact when he told her of the nothingness that met him in his death. But she was desperate and so she prayed - to her mothers new gods and her father's old ones.

That's where he found her - in the Godswood, crumpled in the snow, before the heart tree, shaking and sobbing. She tried to tear her eyes from the the face of the tree to meet Jon's concerned ones as he hauled her up but they were mocking her. It was no longer the face of Ned Stark's Gods but the face of HIM. He'd said that a part of him would stay with her forever, that they were bound for an eternity and here he was, staring back at her, witnessing his own prophesy take root in her womb.

Sansa leapt from Jon's arms as he held her and launched a barrage of tears, fists and unintelligible cries at the tree. She felt strong arms yank her back, warmth envelope her, soft hand stroke her hair and back. Jon was murmuring calming words in her ear that may as well be in High Valerian as none of his words penetrated the fog that surrounded her.

That was apparently two days ago. Sansa awoke in her chambers - it was dark, save for the crackling fire at the hearth. Jon was sat in an overstuffed armchair beside her bed. His head lolled back, baring his throat in the dancing firelight, his mouth open as he snored softly. He'd kept vigil over her. Of course he had - this kind, gentle King in the North.

Sansa carefully snaked a hand down to her smallclothes. She'd heard of woman miscarrying babes after trauma. No sign of a bleed - the seed still held.

She ached a little as she sat up. The movement woke Jon.

"Sansa"! He wiped the sleep from his tired face with his large hands and immediately came to her bedside.

"How do you feel? Maester couldn't decipher your ails - you've been asleep for two days since........since the Godswood....... Sansa?..... What happened? Let me help you.... Please"! His words escaped him in a flood of sweet concern as he placed a warm hand atop of hers.

_Oh Jon! If only you could help._

The tears began again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I hadn't informed you guys that R+L=J and that everyone knows this at this point - the way they found out isn't particularly important to the plot so we'll say Howland Reed travelled from the neck to tell Jon after he heard about his resurrection or something along those lines.... If that doesn't work for you then by all means - come up with something more plausible- knock yourself out ;)
> 
> Also I'm aware that this story has started in a particularly dark place - don't worry it won't stay there! But I do hope that you feel that I'm handling the subject matter with care (as someone who has suffered multiple miscarriages myself and is currently pregnant, I hope I can bring some understanding to my writing.... But yet again - I don't 'do' stories of sadness so the tide will turn on this one guys - don't you worry)!!

This wasn't what she'd expected. She knew Jon would try to support her as much as possible but this?! Never.

Before Sansa told him about what was taking root in her body, she'd thought of any and all options available to her - leaving Winterfell before she started to grow large, birth the child and leave it with a discreet adoptive family seemed to be the most sensible.

"Could you do that though Sansa? A child? Your child?.... I know HE planted the babe within you but he or she will still be yours - will still be a Stark". Jon had countered when she'd revealed her plan.

....... _No. I don't think I could do that. Even if the child embodies a dead man's evil.... I just....couldn't._

"Then what should I DO Jon? What options are left to me? The Boltons are still rightfully hated in the North - if I birth Ramsey's child, that hate will be transferred to me - I know it! There's no getting round what this babe's father was.... And the child will come to learn that too". Sansa's hand instinctively went to her still flat stomach.

Jon watched her, his eyes a mixture of sadness and kindness. It made Sansa grateful for him - that she was no longer alone in the world - that he would want to help her with whatever struggles she might face. Even dire ones such as this.

"We shall wed" Jon said as he turned his back to face out of the window. Sansa wasn't sure if she'd heard him correctly.

"What"?

"We shall wed.... And I'll claim the child as my own" he turned back to her now and leant over his desk, two strong arms propping him up. Jon surveyed her face for a reaction for she surely didn't feel capable of responding vocally at that time.

"Your child will be my heir and you and the babe will be safe from scrutiny.... From prejudice..... From other unsuitable marriage prospects.... Just.... Safe". He exhaled a shaky, unsure breath with his words. Sansa gaped at him before beginning to cry (an all too common occurrence at the moment).

All at once, Sansa felt his warm embrace as she contemplated his words through her sobs into his chest, her tears landing on his boiled leather jerkin.

"You can't mean this Jon.... You.... You should find someone you love to marry..... Or... Or at least one that makes political sense..... You should father your own children with them.... Think of what you'd be giving up" Sansa couldn't meet his eyes so spoke into his neck and chest as his hold on her tightened.

"Sansa.... I've long been resigned to the fact that I'll not have a wife or children... I swore vows specifically denying me such.... If anything, you'll be giving me something I never thought would be within my grasp".

_Lies. Sweet, sweet lies._

"But we're..... We used to be..." Sansa whispered.

"We're cousins.....I'll not demand to take my rights....if that's what you fear".

"You wouldn't mind?..... Living as man and wife in name only"? Again, she couldn't meet his eyes.

"I was in the Watch.... I think I can survive". She heard a hint of choked laughter in his voice.

"Could you..... Could you love another man's child"? Sansa said in a small voice.

"He or she won't be 'another man's child' Sansa.... They'll be your child... Of course I'll love the babe".

Sansa broke from his arms and studied his face through her tears.

_He would. He would do this for me. Out of anyone, Jon is the least likely person to hold a grudge against a child for their parents sins. Even if the sins are as great and deep as Ramsey's._

"....I..... I..... Could try other.....other methods to rid me of the child.... Before it's too late" she said shakily, her hand once again going to her stomach.

"And subject your body to one of those BUTCHERS?!....Sansa no". Jon gripped her upper arms, bowing his head slightly to get their eyeline perfectly even. "And before you suggest running into the night to never return.... You're not leaving Winterfell.... Bad things happen when Stark's leave Winterfell".

"Bad things happened when I returned to Winterfell" Sansa said almost to herself, her ocean blue eyes staring into the middle distance.

"Sansa" Jon sighed before continuing "I'll not force you to do anything - you know that, but I can't see another, more savoury option open to us".

_Us. Open to us?_

".... I..... I'll need to think about this Jon".

"Of course.... But if we press ahead, we'll need to be wed soon - it'll need to look as though the babe was conceived on the wedding night".

Sansa could do nothing but nod at him. Her head swam with his words and more and more questions.

_Jon could love this child - I'm fairly sure of it. Could I? What if it looks like HIM? Is evil learnt or bred?_

After returning to her chambers, bathing, preparing for bed and trying for what seemed like hours to chase sleep, she still had the same thoughts galloping through her mind. Only once she'd made her decision did she finally feel her body allow itself to drift into unconsciousness.

********

They'd wed within a week of announcing the news. It was a quick and simple affair compared to any other Royal wedding but the Lords, Ladies and common folk accepted that their King and new Queen had done so because of he impending Winter.

Sansa had agreed that they should - for appearances - spend their wedding night together. It would do no good for a servant to catch one of them returning to their own chambers.

"It will be like when we were children again.... When I would have nightmares from hearing one too many of Old Nan's fables and come to you or Robb in the night" she had said to him the day before their wedding. It wasn't.

The night of their wedding marked the start of her sickness. She felt nauseated throughout the day but Sansa had put that down to nerves. At the feast - meagre as it was - the smell of some of her favourite foods turned her stomach and by the time they'd avoided a bedding ceremony and wandered back to The Lords Chambers together, she was running for the chamber pot and emptying what little contents her stomach held.

"I know I'm not top of your list but I'm not that bad of a marital match am I"? Jon joked - trying to lighten the mood while he held her hair. Sansa's hand flailed behind her, trying to give him a playful swat while she was still hunched over the pot - unsure if she'd retch again.

"It's the babe" she said as she sunk to the floor, back propped up against the side of the bed. Her long legs splayed out in front of her in the most unladylike fashion as her clammy face began to regain some colour.

Jon sat next to her on the stone floor and handed her a cup of water. "Anything I can do to help"?

"I don't think so" she responded as she took tiny sips. They sat like that for a while, on the floor listening to the whistle of the winds outside and crackle of the fire in the hearth.

"I've been thinking" Sansa broke the silence between them.

"Of course you have" Jon replied with a grin. Sansa rolled her eyes in response which only made Jon's smile even wider.

"I think you may need to share my bed every once in a while". Sansa supplied. Jon's grin was replaced by a look of confusion. "Servants talk Jon - especially maids" she continued. "If my maids don't walk into my chambers in the early morning to find you in my bed not once then word will get round.... And suspicion will grow".

Jon contemplated her words fairly quickly. "Alright - how often do you want me"? The grin returned. Sansa swatted him once more.

She thought for a moment before responding "I don't know..... Lord Tyrion only slept in the same room as me on the first night and as you know neither of us were keen to keep up any pretence that... Any of THAT was going on..... Ramsey...." Sansa paused before clearing her throat "Ramsey visited me almost every night..... Even when I had my moon blood". Jon squeezed her hand.

He fidgeted where he sat and rubbed the back of his neck as Sansa looked to him for an answer. "Once a fortnight"? He shrugged in suggestion.

"Once a fortnight" Sansa repeated in confirmation with a quick nod of her head.

They stayed on the cool stone floor for almost 2 hours, hardly talking but in comfortable silence between Sansa's episodes of retching into the chamber pot.

Once she felt fairly sure her body was finished with trying to expel its contents, they made ready for bed.

  
After blowing out the last candle and settling down under he furs, Sansa couldn't help but giggle.

"What's so funny"? Jon asked.

"Well.... I've never felt so sick in all my life.... But this has been the best wedding night I've yet to experience"!

"Sansa..... That's not funny" he chided her as the lay back to back.

Sansa knew this to be true but perhaps what they said about pregnancy was correct - it addled your brain.

"I know..... I'm just...... I'm grateful to have you Jon.... I'm grateful that you would live this lie...for me". Sansa spoke into the dark.

"You don't need to be grateful to me Sansa.... I said I'd protect you".

"Jon.......... We'll be alright won't we"? Sansa asked after a long pause.

"I'll make sure we are". He responded and Sansa believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok - next chapter is the beginning of the 'itch' ;)
> 
> Please please please comment!!!!!!! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First of all I want to thank you to all of those who have stuck with this story despite the unsavoury set up. This fic was never going to be for everyone and that's completely understandable.
> 
> I had hoped that I could centre the story around Sansa and Jon's relationship - Jon's supportiveness and Sansa's internal strength and that would win out overall in this story but appreciate that some might find that the issue of Ramsey's baby is too big an on stocks to overcome and find the thought that this fic will eventually include smut distasteful.
> 
> With that - I've found that I can't quite include the smut just yet - there needs to be a little more 'adjustment' time - so for those of you waiting for the sexy stuff - sorry... Maybe the start of it next chapter.

Sansa would be lying to herself if she said she hadn't thought of trying the moon tea again, but something stops her. Even when the sickness and fatigue got bad enough for her to dismiss herself from her daily duties and retire to bed for the day.

Jon visits Sansa chambers on days like those. He sups with her and tries to encourage her to eat. Jon had been to the Maester's library and read about ginger helping with Sansa's ails - he'd had the kitchens make up a batch of ginger biscuits and brought her ginger tea. When that didn't seem to work, he consulted the book once again to read about the positive effect of citrus scents - the next day Sansa's room was littered with bowls of lemons and oranges.

_Gods know what my maids think._

"Thank you for trying to help Jon" Sansa said one day when Jon had joined her for their midday meal. As much as she really didn't feel like eating, Sansa found that to leave her stomach empty always left her feeling worse.

"Well how am I going to get you to take over all my boring duties if you insist on locking yourself away"? Jon replied with grin before taking a crunch out of his green apple.

Sansa rolled her eyes and returned to nibbling her bread. She eyed the book on the table in front of Jon, the one he'd borrowed from the library - entitled 'Feminine Medicine'.

"About to abdicate to become a Maester are we"? She jibed. It was Jon's turn to roll his eyes then.

"Maester Wolken did question me when he saw the book in my hand" he said. Sansa stiffened in her chair.

"I told him that.... Ah..... That we're keen to.... Increase our chances of conceiving...I said I was researching fertility" Jon shifted in his chair.

Sansa considered Jon's falsity. "You're a terrible liar Jon.... There's no way he believed you".

"If he does suspect anything then he'll just think that we conceived before the marriage" Jon shrugged "it must be a common enough occurrence" he concluded as he took another chunk of apple.

"Maybe.... But for a Queen?.... You know my feelings about the Maester Jon..." Sansa looked to her lap. She'd never trusted the man that was brought into the castle's service by the Boltons.

Jon contemplated her whilst chewing. "I'll write to the citadel.... Request a new Maester".

"Do you think they'll heed your request"?

"They better do - I'm King in the North" he replied, reclining back into his chair, a teasing smile on his lips.

"Pomposity doesn't suit you Jon" Sansa retorted as she kicked his shin under the small table.

"Ow!.....aye - You're right" he threw his hands up in mock surrender.

"What about your maids.... Can you trust them.... They must have suspicions what with dealing with your sickness and all"?

Sansa pondered this for a while before answering "I've no doubt they've come to their conclusions among them...... But I trust they are loyal to me and whatever they suspect would not be spread about the castle". Jon nodded.

******

They'd agreed upon that night being their false night together. Jon walked the halls a little longer than necessary in his robe, making sure he was seen by a handful of servants on his way to his wife's chambers.

There was a slight awkwardness in the air as they both made small talk and climbed into bed - acres of space between them.

Sansa couldn't help bring up the subject of the babe once more. "We could still do it.... We've not announced anything.... I could give the babe away and then we could annul the marriage and you'd be free to take a wife of your choosing".

"What? After the servants have seen me visit your chambers"?

Sansa had no answer.

"Besides, could you really leave your child with another family"? Jon said as he pulled, puffed and pummelled the feather pillow before laying his head down.

"......if it looks like him..... Yes" she answered in a small voice, staring into the fire across the room.

"Sansa..... We'll cross that bridge if we come to it" Jon said softly.

_How? How would we cross that bridge?_

Sansa tried to fight back the tears, she really did, but her mind and her body were all over the place. The last thing she remembers before sleep overtook her was Jon's embrace, calming words spoken over her head as he'd tucked her under his chin and the comforting stroke of his hand brushing over her hair.

******

Sansa awoke to an unfamiliar feeling - the warmth, weight and steady breathing of someone else in her bed. It took her a little while of rapidly blinking away the remnants of sleep for her to realise it was Jon's breath on her neck, Jon's rising and falling chest at her back, Jon's possessive arm around her waist and Jon's hardened manhood pressed to her rear through his sleeping breeches.

Sansa's breathing hitched and her pulse quickened. She needed him to move away and give her some space but knew he'd be mortified if he knew what he was doing and how it scared her.

Sansa wiggled - hoping the movement would wake him. Jon only tightened his hold on her, nuzzled her hair and let out a sleepy contented sigh.

Not for the first time, Sansa felt guilt at their false marriage. Jon would make a good true husband with someone he loved and loved him back. She made a mental note to somehow let him know that she would not blame him if he should take a mistress - maybe she should encourage it. Somewhere deep down she knew he wouldn't though - even with the marriage charade they'd concocted - Jon is a man of honour and would never do anything that might embarrass her should it become common knowledge.... Let alone the personal vow he made to himself to never father bastards.

Sansa tried another move, accompanied this time by the sound of her clearing her throat. Jon's response was to press his hips to her behind and let out a low rumbling growl close to her ear. The noise caused goosebumps to prickle Sansa's neck and shoulder - from her fear or something else she wasn't sure. It also seemed to wake Jon. His breathing paused and then quickened, he removed his arm gently - trying not to wake what he assumed was a sleeping Sansa - and with a graceful haste, he removed himself from her and scooted to the far side of the bed.

She lay there, with her back turned to him, trying to regulate her breathing to imitate that of steady sleep. She knew all men were not like Ramsey, she knew there were good kind men and she knew beyond doubt that Jon was one of the best of them. That didn't do much to quell her shock however at the feel of him pressed against her. Sansa reminded herself that all men had THAT reaction in the morning and that she shouldn't dwell on it. She wondered if Jon might build a barricade of extra furs between them on his next visit.

*******

A week later and her sickness seemed to have eased. Jon convinced her that in between the rest that she so clearly needed, she should try to keep busy. To keep her mind occupied and away from her troubled thoughts. She didn't need too much persuasion.

Sansa busied herself with the running of the household, council meetings, hearing petitions and anything else she could think of.

When Jon asked if she would like to accompany him to a nearby Wildling settlement, she didn't have to think upon the answer for too long.

It was during that visit that she noticed a change in Jon's demeanour - not that she wasn't expecting it - he normally let himself relax around the Free Folk but this time was different.

Jon insisted that she take his arm wherever they walked, he tucked her in close and kept his hand over hers where it rested on his forearm. He always seemed to angle himself between her and the men that approached them to speak whereas there was no tension at all in his body should a spearwife or child make their way to them. Sansa even witnessed a couple of warning glares he'd shot off in the direction of various men with wandering eyes.

Although Sansa had come to know and like the Free Folk, she had always been a bit wary of the men. Stories of women being 'stolen' didn't exactly warm her heart with romanticism - so she was initially grateful for Jon's extra attentions while on their outing.

Sansa assumed that his show of possessiveness would end when they returned to the castle - but she was wrong.

She noticed him everywhere. It was a large castle and yet he somehow managed to always appear.

How is he doing this? Surely the King has better things to do than follow me around.

It was worse when she was in the presence of males - even men that she knew he trusted. She decided to test her theory and actively seeked out the company of men - asking Ser Davos to take a walk with her in the Glasshouse, visiting the smith to enquire if he needed any more steel, conversing with the Master of Arms about the training going on in the yard or just talking in general to any of the number of visiting Lords. Each time, as if summoned by magic, Jon would appear, greet whatever male companion she was with sternly and place a large protective hand at the small of her back. The men seemed to notice his cues and normally retreated gracefully, fabricating some reason to be elsewhere.

"What"? Jon asked one morning after he'd scared away a kitchen steward she was discussing meals with. Sansa shook her head up at him through her amused smile - does he even know he's doing it?

"Nothing" she replied. Sansa had come to realise that she rather enjoyed his new habit. It made her feel safe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all those who've made it this far - thank you for sticking with me on this one! 
> 
> So yea sorry for the lack of smut but when I reconsidered this chapter I thought that it is probably too soon for Sansa.

**Author's Note:**

> As always please please leave a comment - I'm a comment whore!
> 
> Please forgive me any typos but please point them out to me so I can edit!


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